Around the Corner
by ShadowAbsol13
Summary: Two lives intertwined, as broken as can be. AU, OOC.


Around the Corner

The flash of lights. A sound, a pin falling. A swish of fabric, silky smooth. The long, slender legs made their way down the runway. A flip of gold weaved hair. And as soon as it had begun, the lights were out, and it was over.

The blonde sighed. She sat down backstage, wondering what to do. If she left, she'd be attacked by the press and all her wannabes. That is, of course, if she waited any longer. She glanced down at her skimpy outfit. Terrible for late December weather, but if she wanted to survive, it would have to do. She snatched up her leather jacket and her bag and ran. She barreled through the back door and down an alley.

She waited for a moment, breathing heavily, gaze intent on the door.

"What's the rush, Elesa?"

Elesa contained a scream as she spun around to see her best friend, Roxie. She sighed. "Really, Roxie?"

Roxie laughed. "Yes. Now that you've escaped, wanna head to a bar or something?"

Elesa nodded. "Definitely."

As they strolled down the street, she was careful to keep her head down. A few people stared at her, or, rather, her lower half, but for the most part, she was successfully unnoticed.

When they entered, Elesa was shocked to see there was hardly a soul there. The bartender was sitting with his feet on a table, a toothpick in his mouth. Faint music blasted from a back room somewhere. When he noticed the girls, he stood up and walked behind the bar. Roxie voiced Elesa's thoughts. "Where is everyone?" She asked, examining the place. "Figured there would be more people here on New Year's Eve."

The bartender shrugged. "Guess everyone was out seeing your show, 'Lesa."

Elesa nodded absentmindedly. She felt a vibration and pulled her phone out of her side pocket. It was lit up with texts from her manager. Apparently there was a party going on. _What a shame_, Elesa thought sarcastically. She placed her phone on the bar and sat down.

The bartender yawned. "So what do you ladies want?"

Elesa moaned, feeling a headache coming on. "Drugs," she spat, and he laughed. He placed a drink in front of her. "Closest thing to it I've got."

Elesa downed the drink and sighed. "Thanks, Marlon." He nodded in reply and placed a drink in front of Roxie as well.

The music from the other room got even louder, and Marlon growled. "That maniac artist ought to keep it down," he spat. "After all, I am letting him stay here while he's got no place to go."

Elesa's eyes flicked up to Marlon. "Maniac artist, huh?" She grinned. "What'd he do to get kicked out this time?"

Marlon rolled his eyes. "No idea. Why don't you go ask him," he suggested. "And while you're in there, ask him to turn down the music, yeah?" He added. Elesa gave him a casual salute and headed back to the back room.

When she reached the door, she winced. She carefully opened the door and bit her lip, slamming her hands against her ears.

Inside, beyond the blaring pop music, was a chestnut-brown haired artist standing before a large easel, his hands covered in paint. He was dressing in a black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and a red scarf daringly draped around his neck. A red fedora was perched on his head.

"WILL YOU TURN THAT DOWN?!" Elesa screamed over the music. The artist nonchalantly used his boot-clad foot to turn down the volume on his stereo. Elesa sighed, and walked over to one of the chairs in the room and sat down.

Now that she could concentrate, she glanced around at her surroundings. It was a very drab white room, paint peeling off of the walls, and a thin layer of dirt and dust covering nearly everything. There was a pile of blankets in the corner, and a suitcase beside it. There were two chairs and a small table, two of which housed objects. The table was covered with buckets of paint and was beside the artist, who at that moment stuck his hand deep into a bucket of yellow paint and smeared it across the canvas.

She started when the artist said, "Dear, would you please get rid of that slutty outfit? It's bothering my creativity."

Elesa smirked. "How do you know what I'm wearing? You haven't looked at me since I entered the room."

With another smear of paint, he replied, "I don't. You just came back from a whore show. You can't possibly NOT be wearing something slutty."

Elesa laughed. "Are you telling me you don't like my whore uniform, Burgh?"

"No, it makes you look like-"

Elesa rolled her eyes. "A whore. Got it, thanks."

Burgh turned his head slightly, giving her a glance, his green eyes flashing. "Go ahead. I won't look."

Elesa pulled an outfit from her bag, trusting her old friend. She stripped, and as she did, she asked, "So, what did you do to get kicked out of your apartment this time?"

Burgh sighed. "I accidentally ran over my neighbor's cat."

Elesa burst out laughing. Burgh whined and splattered red paint onto his canvas as Elesa pulled on her shirt. "I really didn't mean to! The old bat shouldn't have let her stupid cat out of her apartment anyway."

Elesa raised an eyebrow. She had heard a familiar twinge in his voice. The way he moved his legs, covered in black, was very stiff. She glared at him as he reached for the orange paint. "You swore you'd stop."

He froze, his hand shaking. His shoulders tensed. He quickly dropped his hand to his side. His fingers curled into a fist. "The life of an artist is hard," Burgh retorted, bitterly swiping his hand across the canvas.

Elesa rolled her eyes. "Is that your excuse?"

Burgh slammed his hand on the table, causing his black paint to fall and splatter over the floorboards with a clatter. Elesa jumped out of her skin. He shouted, "What about _you_? Your drinking habits haven't stopped!"

Elesa stood quickly. "That's none of your business."

"Isn't it?"

Burgh glared and Elesa glared right back, emerald vs turquoise.

Burgh was startled when Elesa kneeled in front of him, and reached for his boot. Shocked, he tried to take a step back, and nearly knocked over his easel. She caught her grasp on it and pulled. She could see him grimace as the leather boot brushed against his leg. She quickly removed the other one too. She moved to pull up his left pant leg and he whimpered.

Elesa gave him a look. "How do you get these pants on in the morning, anyway?"

Burgh shrugged. "Very carefully."

Eventually she was able to pull up the leg enough to see the angry red marks striping his legs, from ankle to knee. She put a hand to her mouth, a tear rolling down her cheek. Burgh stared sullenly at the ground, looking somewhat between rebellious teenager and smartass adult.

He sighed and kneeled beside Elesa. "Stop worrying about me," he told her, wiping away her tears with a gentle touch. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

Elesa blinked. "I know," she replied, staring vacantly past him.

He smiled. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and fixed his jeans. He slid on his boots. Brushing his hair out of his eyes and adjusting his fedora, he declared, "So, should we join Roxie and Marlon for the party?"

Elesa raised an eyebrow. "How did you know Roxie was here?"

Burgh simply smirked.

As they walked out to the bar, they could hear the shouts of the people flooding the streets.

Three!

Burgh and Elesa exchanged a glance.

Two!

Roxie and Marlon grinned at each other.

One!

The two couples kissed.

As the night wasted away, the four friends talked, laughed, and drank the whole night through, forgetting everything. For a moment, everything was perfect.

...

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,  
And never brought to mind?  
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,  
And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,  
For auld lang syne.  
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,  
For auld lang syne.


End file.
